Resurgence: A History of the Supernatural War
INTRODUCTION A Note On This Tome It goes by many names: “The Crisis,” “The Dark Years” “The Supernatural Blight”, “Heaven’s Wrath”, and of course, the official designation, “The Apocalypse.” For me, personally, it’ll always be “The Angel War,” and while many protest giving an explicitly Abrahamic designation to such a global conflict, they will be hard-pressed to discover a more globally accepted term for the creatures that almost caused our destruction. By the order of the Archangels the Apocalypse was allowed to happen; by the fanaticism of the lower angels the Apocalypse was not thwarted once those orders had been given. The word angel remains a devastating term, unrivaled in its power to conjure up so many memories, and it is these memories that are the subject of this book. Some critics will, no doubt, take issue of the concept of a personal history book so soon after the declaration of the end of worldwide hostilities. While it is true that the Apocalypse itself lasted barely two years, the rebuilding and scars of what it has impacted on us still remain to this day. Yes, the coming years will provide hindsight, so that we may be able to look upon memories with a clearer and calmer light. But many of those memories are fading, fast, trapped in bodies and spirits too damaged or infirm to see the fruits of their victory accomplished. It is no great secret that the global life expectancy is a mere shadow of its former self. Even in the United States, with its powerful economy and universal healthcare, malnutrition, poverty, and pollution are rampant. It is clear that there are not enough resources to care for all the physical and psychological casualties, though the world’s powers are rapidly trying to catch up. It is because of this enemy, time, that I have chosen to forsake the luxury of hindsight and publish these survivor’s accounts. Perhaps in the future, someone may do what I did, and record the recollections of these older, wiser, survivors. Perhaps I might even be one of them. A note must be said on the inclusion of the supernatural in this book. While I cannot deny that the supernatural world is fully, or at least partly, responsible for the devastation of the Apocalypse, their own memories cannot be forsaken simply because they are of a different race and species from us. Their memories of the event are just as powerful and potent as any one of us, and due to their advanced (and in certain cases, infinite) longevity, their word may be the only remaining one after time has passed. While all our perspectives of the war may be different, theirs may be the most, and that is why I have decided to include their interviews in this book- so that we may be able to look on the other side. A final note: the formatting and style of this book was heavily inspired by the authorship of Max Brooks in his fictional work World War Z. While Mr. Brooks himself had unfortunately passed away during the War, his estate survives, and I would like to do him some tribute by writing this homage to his work. So I shall quote him, “This is their book, not mine.” PREAMBLE ' PORT MORESBY, PAPUA NEW GUINEA' coup that overthrew the government of Papua New Guinea in 2024 was widely suspected to have been led by demons. Indeed, demons can be seen walking the street here in Port Moresby, unconcerned of the consequences that their presence shows to the wider world as a whole. Indeed, my interview today is with a demon, Jaryn Andras, a businessman, author, and surprisingly, a fighting veteran of the Apocalypse. ' You know, the thing I never understood with humans is that your kind always needs someone to blame. I’ve been alive for a long time, and let me tell you something, the kind of shit humans get up to is pretty damn terrifying. The Spanish Inquisition, the Dreyfus Affair, the Holocaust, and most recently… 'raises his hands in the air and shakes his head. ' This sorry little war. '''Tell me about your involvement in the Apocalypse. ' '''scoffs. See, kid, you’ve got to understand that not everyone downstairs 1 was willing to fall in line behind Lucifer once he broke out. And if you recall, those big animal thingies? Not Lucifer. It may come as a shock, but Satan himself fought to end the Apocalypse, even if he planned to rule it all afterwards. But still, Lucifer still intended to end humanity. Of course he did! He fell from Heaven because of you stinking little apes. But that wasn’t his biggest concern, oh, no, it wasn’t. It was Trihexa, the Darkness, that ancient, amoral Primordial that predated God Almighty. winces. ''' Sorry, you know how it is. We demons can’t exactly say God without hurtin’. '''Please, continue. So, as I was saying, not everyone in Hell supported the whole ending-humanity thing. You see, after the Great War between us and the fallen angels, we had a...whatchamacallit...population decline. The Old Satans, the rulers of Hell after they deposed Lucifer, they wanted to continue the war, or at least, their kids anyway. Then you had these guys, the Anti-Satans- they didn’t want to continue the war against the fallen, and so you had a civil war. End result? The Anti-Satans won. It was around that time that Hell stopped being a nasty place and actually started turning into a decent civilisation. So in any case, there I am, with my peerage 2, and we’re just setting up shop in Paris. I ran a maid restaurant in those days- pretty Lucifer-damn gay, I know- but it actually served good food. Service With A Smile~!, look it up- the website’s still on the Net somewhere. Now the thing you’ve got to understand was that there was this guy. Salazar Bagrezia. He worked with this other guy, named Rizevim Livan Lucifer- Rizevim...Li...what? ' Oh, Rizevim. He’s the one responsible for this sorry mess. A descendant of the Prince of Hell, Apollyon, who deposed Lucifer and took on His name. Technically he should be Rizevim Livan Apollyon, but he’s dead now. So in any case, he was the one who tried to break Lucifer out. When he failed, he went for the big game. He went for Trihexa. '''So this Rizevim, he was responsible for the Apocalypse, right? ' Well, you could say that. He was responsible for all the grunt work- you know, finding the spell ingredients, casting the spells, breaking the seals, all the good stuff. But the angels, see, they knew about this! And they didn’t do a damn thing to stop him. Worse, they allied themselves with us, said they wanted the same thing we did, you know, “No one wants Lucifer out,” that kind of stuff. But they were working against us all along. I gotta quote one of the motherfuckers- “If Lucifer rises, Hell rises with him.” 'Us? Could you define us? '3 Me, my peerage, and Team friggin’ D. And James Bradley and his ilk. Yes, that James Bradley, the rich one. We fought to stop Rizevim from gettin’ Lucifer out, and we stopped him! But by the time I suspect he had gotten wind of Trihexa, and that was something even the angels didn’ want to let out, though by the time that Rizevim unbound Trihexa, I guess the angels just said ‘fuck it’ and decided to go all out on the rest of the world anyway. And yeah, don’t let all the human media confuse you. Maybe a majority of demons fell behind Lucifer once he escaped, but don’t think we all did. There were some who resisted out of spite, you know, ‘fuck Lucifer’, and all that. But there were some who resisted because we believed in it. Issei Lucifer-damn Hyoudou and his crew, now, when they rebelled that turned a lot of heads. And maybe not to you little humans, but for us the Apocalypse was one whole big game of tag. Lucifer running around trying to get relics and shit, us running around trying to stop him, Heaven running around trying to send a holy smite down on all of us. And in the middle were caught your little scared governments, hiding behind mountains, behind rivers, behind barriers, waiting for the inevitable end. 'spits. ' So much for all that nationalist bullshit that’s popped up postwar. 'leans back. ' So that’s pretty much Lucifer-damn it. Us rebels, we fought against Lucifer and Heaven and the Darkness, and when Trihexa left and Lucifer and Michael duked it out and fell into the Cage, well, we all got honors from the returning government, you know, Order of Infernal Excellence, First Class, that kind of shit. It was really much the same, really. The exact kind of propaganda we use to make the demons toe the line. There's a thing about us demons- we follow the one who has the most power. Without good old Lucifer to make us kneel and worship, we're a chaotic lot. Hence, the government, and hence the crackdowns, and hence the rewards and promotions for those of us who fought Mr. Fallen Archangel himself. Opium for the masses, that's what we are, we happy few who dared to rise. 'points a finger in my direction. ' You know, I could vaporise you right now if I wanted, splatter your guts all over the veranda. But see, that’s the kind of logic your governments want to see. The bloodthirsty demon, the cold, marble angel, yeah, that’s the kind of propaganda your governments trumpet. And they use this- 'spreads his arms wide at the surroundings ' -as even more propaganda for the human masses. Like I was saying earlier- you humans need something to blame. 'sighs. ' And we walked right into your trap. FOOTNOTES 1= Downstairs; a colloquial demonic term for Hell. 2= Peerage; a group of servile demons, often created from former human souls. 3=I've done absolutely no formatting on this whatsoever. This is the first draft of Resurgence, so help me. WARNINGS '''AMSTERDAM, GERMANY, THE EUROPEAN UNION Schultz greets me as we stop to drink at his favorite bar in Munich. Despite my insistence on covering the expenses, he waves them off with a hearty smile. ' I was a Polizeirat 1 on the Bundespolizei, the Federal Police Not the ordinary police, now, the ones that would have been under the jurisdiction of the states as according to the prewar constitution. The Federal Police, that’s what we were, comparable to your FBI. In those days the biggest thing we had to worry about was the migrant crisis from Syria. 'laughs, and takes another sip of his beer. ' We had our hands full, that we did, with border security. You know, that was our intended role- that was what the first incarnation of the Bundespolizei, the Bundesgrenzschutz, during the Cold War, did. Border security, this and that. Imagine this. 40,000 men to cover all of the Deustchland. It worked, but it was hell, hell on Earth. 'laughs again, this time bitterly. ' Then again, we’ve seen Hell. '''So what was it that sparked your investigation into the supernatural? ' It wasn’t anything “magical”, not at first. It started like how everything we had to handle began- across the border. You must understand that Germany before the war did not have too much of a smuggling problem. Yes, there was smuggling, and yes, there was crime. But never on this level. And amidst the migrant crisis? Something was going on, something big. I asked my commander- the rank would be Polizeidirektor, or simply, Director- to lead a team of men to investigate one of their known safe houses. He said no. I tried to request an operation higher up the chain. No. Bureaucratic red tape, choked me out. I couldn’t do anything, no matter how hard I tried. 'So you decided to go it alone. ' It’s not something the police do. ‘Going it alone’ is never a good idea, but I have to admit my curiosity got the better of me. I drove my personal car out to the warehouses by the industrial sector, held my Walther, and waited. Sure enough, they came. Three big trucks came in, and sure enough, they were carrying narcotics- several tons’ worth, I believe. The guards- they were carrying fully automatic weapons, Heckler & Koch, all the works. If they had noticed me in my little Jetta, partially concealed behind a few big crates of steel covered by a massive tarp, well, I wouldn’t be speaking to you right now. 'So what happened? ' It was going along fine, I presume, as fine as it could get, when there was this man. A young man, younger than me at the time. He wore a fine suit and strutted as if he owned the world. He was obviously someone in charge. He didn’t say much, just watched them, toying with this little coin in his hand. I was too busy taking notes and photos to notice that there was something wrong about him. Maybe it was the shitty tie that he wore that didn’t match with his suit at all. Whatever the case, I noticed just how wrong he looked. He looked as if he didn’t belong in the world. The way he walked, the angles of suit, his face… 'shivers. ' And then he turned and looked directly where my car was parked. He didn’t even call the guards out on me. He just looked, with this sick grin on his face, and I swear I could see sharp, fanged teeth. That was when I grabbed the steering wheel of my car and drove for my life. 'You think he was a demon? ' No shit. That unnaturalness about him, what else could he be? I’ve seen a few demons during the war- remember, that Team D or whatever they call themselves- and they all look the same. They have that eerie feeling around them that you can’t quite shake. You feel as if they don’t belong in the world, that they’re just fundamentally wrong somehow, despite how human or beautiful they look. 'So what happened next? ' I had the photos. I showed them to the Director. And sure enough, he authorised the raid. Only when the police raided the warehouse, they didn’t find anything of value. All the heroin- gone. Any traces of what had been there- gone. Just a plethora of crates and steel. So you found nothing. Yes. And how they were able to move so much of that so fast was what sparked my interest, I’m afraid. At first I dug into the supernatural lore only to find a way to defeat them, to serve the best interests of the Deutschland. I read, I learned how to kill them. I remember the first time I went to kill one of them. Even then it was nearly impossible to do it. They’re strong, fast, and incredibly vicious. I still have a scar across my chest from that encounter. '''So you became a ‘hunter.’ 2 Yes. It sounds a lot like American superhero comics, you know… a normal job by day, a vigilante by night. I hunted demons, or at least that was what I was telling myself. Most of the time it was a struggle even trying to find them. They’re secretive, demons- understandably so. Still, it wasn’t enough. Still, it was what it was. It was an obsession. It didn’t amount to anything useful overall. What mattered if I tried to kill a few demons here and there? The network was still the same- demons were coming in, setting up their criminal empires, and trafficking whatnot and whatever. No matter what I, or the Bundespolizei did, which was very little, mind you- the demons continued to run their empires, and no matter what we did it didn’t amount to much. So what happened next? ' Crime began to skyrocket during the 2013-2014 period. At first, I was quick to attribute it to the migrants, bringing their crime and poverty over from Syria, as if that bastard 3 couldn’t keep the madhouse that those people called a country together, which he couldn’t. But it turns out that the migrants were being used- pushed into a position they couldn’t refuse. It turns out something- or someone was hiring them to do the things that they did, you know, expendable. Damned bastards. It began to intensify all across the Reich- sorry, this was back under the old Germany- over in France, in Belgium, hell, even in fucking Poland. The demons were using all of Europe as a transit for their illegal operations. '''You didn’t try to stop it. ' I should’ve. That isn’t to say I did nothing. I staked out their locations, took notes, observed. It was clear that even if the federal police got involved, they’d just clear out like last time. 'sighs ' No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough. How could you contend with all of Hell’s infernal might? I did what I could, and in the end it wasn’t enough. I told myself I was doing good, and I believed that lie, goose-stepping like a good Hitler Jugend ''right into the gaping maws of the nightmare that soon was to blow over the whole world. FOOTNOTES 1= Police Commissioner, in English. In the Bundeswehr, the German army, the closest rank would be a major. 2= A colloquial term for those that hunt, kill, trap, and expel the supernatural. 3= Bashar al-Assad, president of Syria, (2000- present) Martin Schultz in 2013 '''PARAMARIBO, SURINAME, THE KINGDOM OF THE NETHERLANDS ' 'Netherlands’ decision not to integrate any of their overseas territories into the Schengen Area has only made my travel here a bit more difficult. As it is, to Suriname’s east, French Guiana offers relaxed travel restrictions. I am here to meet with Jakob Wesseldijk, a dhampir[1, former AIVD agent, and current IBSM inspector.] ' You must understand that the intelligence communities of the world have always been aware of the supernatural. In ancient times the Chinese jinyiwei 2 executed raids on the dens of the duivels. The Oostindische Compagnie- what you call the Dutch East India Company- when they traveled to Indonesia, one of their missions was to find another way to kill demons. Pity. We already have the conventional ways. ''I beg your pardon? '' Holy water. Salt. Exorcisms. That kind of thing. Still, it rankled a lot of government officials that we had to rely on the Church to destroy our demons for us. 'laughs, and continues. ' In any case the knowledge of the supernatural world is not new. I suspect that governments have been aware of the supernatural as far back as fucking Sumeria. You know, they’ve excavated a few new ziggurats out in Iraq- of course, the Hashemites are grumbling as ever- and they’ve found wall murals, badly faded, but still enough to make out, of how to trap, contain, and kill the damned things. Everyone hopes we’ll find new ways to do it, more efficient ways. The British especially. You know, the only reason people consider them a major power is because of the industrial backing of Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. That, and the fact that they’re the world leaders of technological syncretism. The Suppressant- a British invention. Brisbane detectors- technically, an Australian invention, but with the whole United Dominions thing that’s been going on between the British and their now-not-so-former colonies, it might as well be British. Their new empire depends on it. ''What was your own involvement in the information about the supernatural? '' Iworked for the Kingdom’s secret service- AIVD, roughly means General Intelligence Service in your language. And yes, we knew about the supernatural. Everyone did. Your CIA, the Russians, the Chinese, the Germans, the British, everyone who fancied themselves an intelligence service knew about the damned supernatural. Only problem was, we considered it a trivial matter. Ironic, yes, I know- a highly-classified secret a trivial matter. But it was trivial. We knew so little about them, and what we did know, what small number of contacts we had in their world told us that the demons, the vampires, the gods, they had absolutely no interest in interfering in human affairs. So we let the matter drop. The thing about intelligence services is that they have an extremely finite amount of resources to draw upon. The supernatural may be a very interesting subject, but in the view of the agencies that knew about it, they were very trivial. If they posed no threat, then why bother investigating? It was when we were alerted to a potential terrorist threat in Rotterdam that I began to see that maybe the supernatural wasn’t so trivial. We were informed that some kind of major narcotics deal was about to go on. So we did what we could. We set up a sting. We waited. ''And what happened? '' 'shakes his head. ' Our men, their men, everybody, torn to pieces. Hacked to shreds. Blood and meat scattered across the ground, the floor, the wall, everywhere. It’s unbelievable as to how much blood the human body contains. And on the wall was scrawled, in their blood, a massive inverted pentagram, emblazoned with sigils. A bloodstained bowl of jumbled ingredients- tests done on it revealed it to be rock salt, myrrh leaves, iron-pure iron- and blood. But the blood didn’t match any of the deceased. Worse than that, the blood didn’t match anything human at all. The AIVD covered that shit up, yes, that’s what intelligence services are good for- and performed psychiatric evaluations on everybody that was there. “Exposure to unknown chemical agents,” they said, back in Amsterdam, or an adverse reaction to our own medication. They threw in a healthy dose of PTSD for good measure. They said we needed rest, rest, and long-term “evaluation.” 'scoffs. ' Bullshit. I was born in 1901, right here in Suriname, back when we Dutch ruled over here the first time. I fought in the Second World War in the East Indies against the Japanese. I served the AIVD during the Cold War, helped to expose Soviet rings and thwart coups by the damned Communists against the Kingdom. All under different names, of course- someone like me, over a century old, serving one job for a long time? Never would have worked. I knew that something big was going on- the blood in my veins spoke to it. I began to research, to plot, and to find out what I knew. That was when I met her. '''precisely the same time, the door opens, and a woman who I presume to be his wife steps in. She smiles at me, and I can see sharp fangs in place of canines. She nods at Jakob, who gently pats a seat for her to sit down. Even if I am a dhampir, I’ve always considered myself more human than vampire. That’s why I fought in the War, that’s why I worked for the AIVD. When given the choice between my heritage as a vampire or a Dutchman, I chose the latter. But in the end this case was not going to be one that I could solve as a Dutchman. I did what you Americans call “playing both ends against the middle.” I drew upon the resources that were afforded to me as an AIVD agent, and I drew into my heritage as a vampire. nods to his wife, who nods and introduces herself simply as Adelie. ' ADELIE: He came looking for answers, in a rather brutal way I’m afraid to say. Waving those small, rather harmless black metal things that you humans call weapons around, threatening people- he made a ruckus that could be seen for a mile around. 'snorts. ' JAKOB: I was not that boisterous. 'giggles, but goes on. ' ADELIE: Romanian royalty, that is my pedigree, you could say- the House of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen. Of course, Queen Margareta would probably not take it very lightly if I were to walk out to Bucharest and proclaim myself a member of that exalted house. Even though a monarch sits the throne once more, it would not be wise. Your world is still not safe yet for the supernatural to freely walk in the light- and I, am a vampire after all. I would burn like a pyre if I walked outside right now. It is of course, night, and that is our element. So how did you two meet? 'looks at his wife, and it seems that a moment passes between them, before they both turn back to me. Jakob, it seems, gets to go first. JAKOB: Like I was saying, I was looking for information. ADELIE: Oh, my dear, it did not look like that. Not at all. JAKOB: Information it was, Adelie. Nothing more. ADELIE: You tell yourself that, but it was clear you were being driven by anger. Anger towards your country, for dismissing your claims, and anger towards your true heritage, for causing such a problem in the first place. JAKOB: Alright, alright. Maybe I was a bit angry at the supernatural world. No, make that very angry. But the goal was information. I wanted to find out what was happening in the supernatural world that was causing these events. Because this wasn’t the first thing we’d encountered. The illegal drug trade was skyrocketing, and intelligence had determined that it didn’t belong to any of the known players. Intelligence naturally concluded a new player had emerged on the scene. But I knew it was something different. ADELIE: The House of Karnstein3- that is my noble house among the people of my race, though I myself am only somewhat distantly related to the main branch- had been aware of increasing problems within the supernatural world. The faction that called itself the Khaos Brigade had slumbered for centuries, its true purpose forgotten. But under the leadership of Rizevim Livan Lucifer, or Apollyon I should say, it began to reach out. To do what, no one knew at the time. All it was doing was engaging in criminal activities, both human and supernatural. Transporting narcotics. Stealing powerful weapons. Those of my race looked down upon them, turning our noses upwards at the tattered collection of demons and humans who thought they could change the world with their activities. JAKOB: Initially I thought that a local supernatural figure was responsible for all this. So I pulled my contacts, beat around the bush. It led me to Adelie. ADELIE: He actually thought I was someone engaging in criminal activities. What tomfoolery. I still recall him incapacitating the guards and breaking into my home, leveling one of your rifles, loaded with salt-laced gunpowder, aiming it directly at my face. JAKOB: Aimed it at her face. ‘Start talking,’ I said. I didn’t care if I was breaking the law, I knew that this had to stop. ADELIE: And he didn’t know that I could have easily torn him asunder, dhampir or no. JAKOB: We talked, she fetched several bottles of wine, and we talked some more. Something must’ve clicked, because the next time I woke up was in her bed, with her lying next to me, cool and calm just as a cat. blushes, but does not comment. JAKOB: So things are how they are. Through her I learned the scope of the Khaos Brigade and what they were doing, what they were capable of. How they were running a massive operation through Europe, through the entire fucking world. How they were everywhere. How the governments of the world pissed their collective pants and rushed to cover up the Brigade’s tracks, rather than do something about it. I thought I was ready for anything. I’ve seen a lot- the jungles of New Guinea, prowling the streets on the lookout for Communists, and sorting through the insane nightmare of Syrian refugees. I thought I could do anything, but it seems I was wrong. The signs pointed in the right directions, but I couldn’t connect the fucking dots. They just failed to materialise. It was so goddamn infuriating, but now, I suppose, after fifteen years of regret and recollection, I think I might have something of an answer. looks out to the night sky, and Adelie gently wraps her arms around him and leans in, gently nuzzling his neck. His eyes are unfocused, barely registering me or his wife. Who in their right mind could have been ready for this? FOOTNOTES 1 A half-vampire. Like vampires they possess longevity and superior strength, but they also don't burn under the sun. 2The Ming dynasty's secret service, literally the "Embroidered Uniform Guard." 3 One of the vampire world's most powerful and influential noble houses. Jakob Wesseldijk Adelie THE BLIGHT THE WAR BEGINS HOME FRONT USA AROUND THE WORLD, AND ABOVE TURNING THE TIDE TOTAL WAR REBUILDING CHANGES IN HINDSIGHT Category:Fanon Story Category:Mirrordeath